A few months ago, I got out of a relationship that was so “Carrie and Big” that I actually started saying things like, “He’s my Mr. Big!” which is so embarrassing that I am not even sure if I need to explain how stupid that sounds. That’s basically code for, “We are so on-again, off-again, that my head isn’t quite screwed on straight and I think I’m going to need to see a therapist about 14 times a week.”
First of all, anyone who knows ANYTHING about Sex and the City, knows that Carrie is a total idiot for picking Big, because Big is short for: Big Douche Bag. I’ve always been a huge fan of Aidan (stop reading this article now if you love Big). I appreciate someone who likes to do woodwork as a hobby, loves dogs, is a caring, genuine person, and most importantly, loves me more than himself.
If you are in a relationship that reenacts Katy Perry’s “Hot N Cold,” on the regular, you should probably end that… like now. By the end of my three year on-again, off-again relationship, I honestly looked like a garbage man after a long hard day of work. This simile is very symbolic, use your creativity to analyze that statement. Big picture: I REEKED of garbage. I had to get right with myself before I could get right with anyone else. I tried doing the whole “jump back into the game” thing, but MJ wasn’t ready for that shit and this was a whole different ball game.
The essence of the problem was that I was fucked up from head to toe and I finally accepted that. Unlike Carrie, I have a total of about three emotions and I hate confronting them. It took me so long to realize that my last relationship did a ton of damage to my mind. I’m generally a confident person, but I started second guessing myself, wondering if I was who I thought I was. I questioned whether or not I was smart, whether I was pretty, whether I had the ability to make my partner proud…did I actually have a mustache? Those were legitimate questions that ran through my mind. My ex mind-fucked me so bad that I didn’t even know who the hell I was. For all I knew, I was a 45 year old man, who was having a mid-life crisis. I tried everything to avoid confronting my emotions.
The most unsuccessful thing I did was disregarding my feelings and trying to get over my ex by pulling a Carrie and using other men to do this. Like Carrie, I cared about the guys that I dated after my ex, but I knew they weren’t Big. On a top ten list of the moments I feel the most ashamed about, this is number one and I do not recommend that anyone try this at home because it is a similar experience to jumping over the Grand Canyon on a motorcycle… it is going to fail and someone is bound to wind up getting seriously injured.
I ended up really hurting one guy in particular and I still feel bad about it to this day. I didn’t give one smiling poop face emoji about this person and I knew it. We were friends and far too similar. We liked all the same movies, all the same music, we studied the exact same thing in school. It was monotonous. I wanted someone who was different than me and who would challenge me to step outside my comfort zone and try new things (like…AIDAN, remember when he made Carrie go out to his country home?). I knew it would never work because there was no passion on my side. Long story short, I realized he was wrong for me, but I kept him thinking that I felt the same as he did so that I could send a message to my ex. My Instagram pictures yelled, “#SOHAPPY!!!!,” while my heart screamed “YOU’RE AN IDIOT AND A BITCH!!!” I didn’t do this on purpose, I did it subconsciously because I never allowed myself to actually THINK about what I was doing and acknowledge how I FELT. It’s only now that I can look back and humbly say that I was a giant jerk-sicle. Bad relationships can do a lot of damage, but the worst thing a bad relationship can do is make you think that the behavior that hurt you so badly is acceptable.
I had to get a grip on my life or else I would turn into a Mr. Big. I decided to completely cut dating out of my life until I was ready and at that point, I was not ready for anyone remotely Aidan-esque. I retired my jersey for a while, but recently realized I’m finally ready to get back out there, only under the stipulation that I acknowledge that I still have a lot of work to do. The most important thing about this whole story is that I’ve made the effort to confront myself and try to move forward. I can confidently say that I’m sure I’m ready to move on. I let go of my anger for my ex and I forgave myself for staying in such a horrible relationship.
I’ve also realized how this will affect my next relationship. The next person that dates me is going to have to be able to work with me. If they aren’t willing to accept that my past relationship caused a lot of damage, then they probably need to get off the train to Relationshipville and head back to Singletown. They are going to have to help me gain my trust for men back, they are going to have to realize that I’m damaged, and they are going to have to love the hell out of me regardless. This man is going to have to be one badass person in order to do all of these things. And if he still wants to be a part of this hot mess’s life, then I think the possibility of falling in love again is real.
I know the second time I fall in love with someone it is going to be harder and I just want to go ahead and apologize to that person for having to help fix the damage that I can’t fix alone. I love you means something very different to me now, because now I know how someone acts when they do not love you. Now, I see love in terms of being a verb, therefore love is an action. I want someone to take care of me and to love me enough to show me that despite all these flaws I’ve revealed about myself, they are still willing to be what I need. My ex never loved me in this way and the more I think about it, I don’t think he ever loved me at all. He loved the idea of me, but not me. He never got to know me, what I dreamed about, who I was, what I wanted to become. I never felt like I could talk to him, reveal my fears, or cry in front of him and know that he would comfort me. He didn’t know what makes me laugh, that I’m a total weirdo, that sometimes I’m too overly careful. He didn’t realize that when I’m stressed out I shell up, that I’m painfully awkward, that I love books, that I admire nature with a passion, and that I only like cute pictures of puppies on Instagram. He didn’t know any of these things, showing that he didn’t really care about me since he never took the time to get to know me (it’s not like he had three years or anything). I was just someone to fill the space. I was someone who didn’t make him feel alone. And over time, that’s what he became to me. That’s not love, that’s selfishness. I won’t ever be in a relationship like that again, so I can only thank him for the lessons I learned.
I hate to go all Eat, Pray, Love on you guys, but Rumi says, “The cure for the pain, is in the pain.” When I read this quote a few months ago, I didn’t know what he meant. Now, I’m starting to get it. When you meet an Aidan, he will accept all these things about you and understand that you are hurt and that the only way to fix that is through love. That’s the reason why you should find your Aidan and give up your Big.